


Producing Youngbae

by longleggedgit



Category: Big Bang (Band)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-05-04
Updated: 2012-05-04
Packaged: 2017-11-04 19:24:50
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,377
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/397333
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/longleggedgit/pseuds/longleggedgit
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Daesung takes it upon himself to help Youngbae get a girlfriend, which goes about as well as can be expected.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Producing Youngbae

**Author's Note:**

> When I started writing this, I wasn't even sure I shipped it. 7000+ words later, I apparently ship it like burning! These two are just kind of endearingly sweet and fun to write together. A million thanks to reallycorking for once again hand-holding me through this! ♥ Maybe now that I've officially written Daesung in every combination with the rest of the group I can tackle a few new pairings. . . .

Youngbae is late when he gets to the recording studio, behind schedule because of an interview that dragged on for way too long, so he slips in with his manager quietly, hoping not to interrupt anything. It's a relief to see just Jiyong in the booth, Teddy working the computer and the other members gathered at the break table in various states of exhaustion. Seunghyun has earbuds in and his eyes closed. Seungri is texting or maybe playing a game on his phone. Daesung has his head in his hands and is staring at a book with glazed-over eyes; Youngbae feels similarly. He decides to take the open chair next to Seunghyun, because it's tucked back in the farthest corner, and grabs a bottle of water for himself.

"That took a while," Seungri says without looking up from his phone.

"Yeah," Youngbae agrees. He twists at the ring on his little finger until the silence in the room feels weirdly heavy, and eventually looks up to find both Seungri and Daesung watching him. Seunghyun is, as far as he can tell, asleep.

"Didn't it go well?" Daesung asks. 

Sometimes Youngbae hates how transparent he is. "It was fine," he says, twisting his ring more urgently.

"Did they make fun of you again for not having a girlfriend?" Seungri puts down his phone and grins, like it's a joke they haven't all heard a million times before.

"They didn't make fun of me," Youngbae says. 

Daesung looks over his shoulder for confirmation from Youngbae's manager, who offers, "They were asking a lot of questions about girls."

Youngbae visualizes throwing his water bottle at his manager's head, and it helps a little. "It wasn't a big deal," he says, getting up so he can nonchalantly survey the table for snacks. The only thing there is shredded squid—too salty for his diet, but he takes some anyway.

"Don't worry, Hyung," Seungri says, slapping Youngbae on the back in a mockery of reassurance. It makes him choke on squid. "You'll find the right girl. Not all of us can be so gifted at dating."

Youngbae visualizes throwing his water bottle at Seungri's head next, and when that doesn't help, something heavier, like a chair.

"Seungri's just extra full of himself because he's seeing that cute bartender from Double Eight tonight," Daesung says, rolling his eyes. 

"You're seeing her again?" Jiyong emerges from the booth, sweaty but bright-eyed, and flashes a grin at Seungri. "Lucky. I love her style, she wears the greatest shoes."

Teddy swivels around in his chair before Seungri can preen too much under the attention and says, "Okay, we only need Taeyang and Seunghyun now. The rest are free to go." 

Jiyong and Seungri cheer, and Jiyong kicks Seunghyun's chair so he jerks and pulls out his earbuds. "You're up," he says. "Better work hard if you want to be done in time for your hot date." 

Seunghyun stands, looking embarrassed but also plenty pleased with himself.

"Does everybody have dates tonight?" Youngbae asks. 

"Jiyong and Seunghyun are going clubbing," Daesung clarifies, but they all know that essentially means a date, only with more girls. "I'm going back to the dorms."

Youngbae nods, a little dazed. 

Daesung shoulders his bag and pulls out his headphones before pausing to ask, "Do you want me to wait to work out with you?"

"Yeah," Youngbae says, "sure. If I'm not too late."

"Wait." Jiyong grabs Youngbae by the shoulders and whirls him around so they're face-to-face. "What happened? Did they tease you about girls again?"

It's an immense relief when Teddy calls Youngbae into the booth first.

 

"You know," Daesung says breathlessly, stepping off the treadmill next to Youngbae's, "not to let them get to you, right?" He dabs sweat away from his face with his shirt and adds, "Especially Seungri."

Youngbae frowns and keeps his eyes straight forward, knuckles gripping the handlebar. "I don't care if they go on dates," he says.

Daesung nods as he takes a drink of water, sits down on the floor next to Youngbae's treadmill, and then lies down next to it, arms sprawled out at his sides. "Aish, I don't know how you do it, Hyung."

He wants to be crabby with Daesung, but Youngbae can't help but smile down at him. "You can't be tired already," he says, amused.

"You're not even human." Daesung flicks him off and covers his face with his arm in the same motion and Youngbae laughs, hard enough that it throws off his pace completely and he has to stop. He sits down on the treadmill and mops his own face off, and Daesung rests his head against Youngbae's foot.

"Is it still your goal to get a girlfriend this year, Hyung?"

Youngbae's stomach drops and the smile fades from his face. Why does it always have to come back to this? "Yeah, I guess," he says.

"Okay," Daesung says. "From here on out, it's our shared goal."

"You want to get a girlfriend too?" Youngbae doesn't know why it seems odd to him, but Daesung never really talks about dating; it's never seemed to concern him much.

"No," Daesung says. "I'm going to help _you_ get a girlfriend."

Youngbae rubs the back of his head, swallowing. "I don't think that's really a good idea," he says thickly.

Daesung rolls onto his stomach and beams at him, with such intensity that Youngbae looks away. "No, it's perfect! I'm secretly really good at this kind of thing. I just let Seungri and the hyungs have all the girls because it makes them feel better."

"Right." Youngbae can't help it; he snorts out his laughter and then can't stop, his entire frame shaking with it. 

"I'll choose not to be offended by that," Daesung says coolly. He stands up and shakes damp bangs out of his eyes. "Okay, it's settled. Tomorrow I start to produce you. You'll have girls knocking down your door by next month."

"Daesung . . ." Youngbae says.

Daesung waves him off, heading toward the showers without another word. Youngbae should keep going for another fifteen minutes at least, just like he should put a stop to whatever Daesung thinks he's doing before it gets out of hand. But Daesung has a strange pull about him and Youngbae feels himself giving in to it, following him to the showers just a few seconds later, resigned.

 

Youngbae is an early riser, especially on nights he doesn't sleep well, which occur all too frequently these days. He's surprised, then, when he rises the next morning to find Daesung in the kitchen, not only up before him but dressed and ready for the day, leg jiggling impatiently as he pages through a book.

"About time!" Daesung says, snapping the book shut. "I was just about to wake you up!"

"Did we . . . have something scheduled?" Youngbae opens the fridge and goes for the eggs, but Daesung jumps up and grabs the carton away from him, stuffing it back inside and shutting the door.

"Hey!" Youngbae protests.

"Get dressed! We're going out for breakfast and then we're going shopping." 

"I'm too tired," Youngbae moans, but forty minutes later they're in Daesung's car driving to a place Daesung assures him he's going to love, heavily layered so as to be incognito as possible. 

It's a tiny restaurant on a back street behind a shopping center, but Youngbae is surprised at how charming the setting is; the street has lots of trees, cobblestone sidewalks and a little creek running alongside it, and the restaurant itself is hidden away but quaint, with big bright windows and mismatched china. For now at least they're the only people there, which is ideal for idols trying to have a quiet meal.

"It's run by just the one guy, so food takes forever," Daesung informs him, after they've sat down and placed their orders. "But it's really good, and there's almost never anybody else here." 

"It's great," Youngbae says approvingly. He picks up his plate and tries in vain to read the English printed around the sides.

"This is the perfect atmosphere for a date," Daesung says, startling Youngbae enough that he almost drops the plate. "Here, I brought your notebook so you could write some things down."

"What?" Youngbae laughs, uncomfortable. "When did you get this?"

"While you were in the shower. Here's a pen." 

Youngbae isn't sure if he should feel flattered that Daesung is taking such a serious interest in his romantic life or annoyed, but he accepts the notebook with a half-smile. "Thanks?"

In lieu of a response, Daesung wags the pen in Youngbae's face until he takes that, too. "It's important, especially on the first date, to go somewhere like this, where you can be relatively private and not run the risk of a lot of fans mobbing you."

"Uh-huh." Youngbae twirls the pen in his fingers and stares, transfixed, at this Daesung he's never met before.

"And even though it's kind of smokey, the environment is good, you know? It's quiet so you can have a real conversation, and it has character so she'll be impressed by your taste." He pauses and points at Youngbae's notebook. "Why aren't you writing this down?"

"Oh." Youngbae bows his head and starts to write as quickly as he can.

The restaurant owner brings their food shortly thereafter, and Youngbae continues scratching out notes as he eats until he's satisfied he's got the important points down. When he looks up, Daesung is watching him closely.

"What?" Youngbae asks.

"Nothing." Daesung smiles. "It's nice, isn't it?"

"What is?" 

Daesung looks awkward suddenly, and he averts his gaze to the window, finger-combing his hair. "Just being out like this."

For some reason, Youngbae gets the sense he just hurt Daesung's feelings. "It is nice," he agrees, hoping to make up for whatever he did. Daesung's smile shifts back into place and everything feels right again.

They finish their meal but linger at the restaurant for a long time after, chatting mostly about music and a little about superhero movies. Youngbae feels more relaxed than he has in a while, and when they leave and start strolling down the sidewalk he's almost forgotten why they went out in the first place.

"We're going in here first," Daesung says, pointing at a tiny boutique Youngbae would have passed up without a second glance if he wasn't looking for it. "I think we need to make a couple slight adjustments to your style."

Youngbae's shoulders droop at the reminder of the task at hand. "I have a team of personal stylists in charge of how I look, Daesung," he says, sharper than intended. "Do you really think you're going to do something for me they can't?"

"But they're in charge of _Taeyang's_ style," Daesung says. "You need to have a distinct Youngbae style, too, so she can see there's more going on beneath the surface." Youngbae looks at him sideways, but Daesung doesn't seem to think he's said anything ridiculous at all. "It's all about the element of mystery," he adds.

By the time they've finished browsing boutiques, three hours have passed and the only thing Youngbae has to show for it is a couple new white t-shirts and a baseball cap. Daesung is obviously disappointed, and no matter what he says, Youngbae can tell he's definitely offended that Youngbae rejected the jacket Daesung wanted him to buy on the grounds that it was "mortifying."

"We can work on fashion another time," Daesung sighs as they climb into the car. Youngbae just shakes his head, but he takes some belated shopping notes while Daesung drives anyway to improve his mood, and it seems to work.

"Do you want to watch cartoons when we get home?" Daesung asks excitedly, and Youngbae can't really think of a better way to end a surprisingly enjoyable day.

 

On Sunday, Youngbae wakes up to Daesung shaking him and leaning in way too close.

"Hyuuuung," he whines next to Youngbae's ear, "you've been asleep for _forever._ "

Youngbae rolls onto his side and blinks at his alarm clock, surprised to have slept as soundly as he did. He and Daesung were up kind of late watching _One Piece_ , but after going to bed he didn't wake up with anxiety once. Maybe it's because they actually have two days off in a row for the first time in as long as he can remember.

"I'm not going clothes shopping again," Youngbae says, yawning and wiping sleep from his eyes.

"Fine," Daesung huffs. "But we're trying out more date places today, so you should hurry up and get dressed. It's okay if we don't work out until later, right?" He doesn't give Youngbae enough time to answer before he starts rifling through the closet.

"What are you doing?"

Daesung doesn't respond, just pulls out item after item and spreads them over Youngbae's desk. "You should wear one of these shirts," he says thoughtfully. "And the green high tops would look good with this jacket."

"Get out and let me dress myself!" Youngbae throws a pillow at the back of Daesung's head, but when he emerges a few minutes later he's obediently pieced together an ensemble from Daesung's selections, for reasons he can't fathom.

"You look really good," Daesung says earnestly, as they bid farewell to Jiyong and Seungri, who are sitting at the breakfast table looking utterly perplexed.

Youngbae might not be sold when it comes to Daesung's fashion advice, but by the end of the day he has to grudgingly admit Daesung is really good at dates. They start out the day in an arcade, a location he would never have thought to bring a girl before now. 

"Girls love playing the music games and stuff," Daesung assures him, after their fourth consecutive round of Taiko: Drum Master. "And you can show off your dance moves with Pump It Up."

"But I'm terrible at Pump It Up," Youngbae says.

"We'll have to work on that," Daesung agrees. "Maybe next time."

After a quick lunch at a street stall by the river—they run into a little trouble with fans recognizing them there, but it only takes a few pictures and autographs before they can make an escape—they go on to the National Folk Museum, which Youngbae also never would have picked for a date. It's actually a lot more interesting than he expected.

"This way she can see you're kind of cultured, too," Daesung explains, bending over to closely inspect a dangerous-looking piece of ancient farming equipment. "It's better to go on a weekday, but there's only so much we can do about our schedules."

"That makes sense," Youngbae says. He wonders for not the first time today why Daesung doesn't go on more dates with girls, but can't think of a way to ask without sounding rude.

"Shoot," Daesung says, glancing at his watch. "We have to hurry."

"For what?" 

Daesung only grins and takes him by the arm, and Youngbae doesn't fight it, entirely trusting by this point to let Daesung lead him wherever he wants to go.

The last date event turns out to be a scary movie. Of all Daesung's excursions, it's the last Youngbae would have chosen, not least of all because he doesn't like seeing horror movies in theaters. He doesn't tell Daesung this, though.

"Matinees are good because there aren't as many people," Daesung tells him. He grabs Youngbae's shirt when he starts walking up the aisle and directs him to the very back row. "More private," he says, "so you can. You know." 

Youngbae's eyebrows shoot up.

"What? It's the second date."

After the movie starts, Youngbae decides this would be more of a third or fourth date activity if he were with a real girl. Daesung ends up practically sitting in Youngbae's lap, clutching his arm until it's numb and yelping so much the scant few other people in the theater keep shushing them. It's actually a relief that Daesung is so jumpy, though, because it distracts from the number of times Youngbae jolts and chokes on a shout himself. And if Daesung grabs his hand once or twice, Youngbae is gracious enough not to mention it, which is more than could be said for how any of the other members would've handled the situation.

"I'm never going to sleep again," Daesung moans on the drive home. The sun is setting and Youngbae can't wipe the peaceful smile off his face.

"Your idea, not mine," Youngbae says. He has his notebook open so he can pretend to take belated notes but is mostly just doodling loopy designs in the margins.

"Hey, I'm making a lot of sacrifices for you here," Daesung says with a glare. "I hate those kinds of movies. I would never have done that if not for educational purposes."

Youngbae laughs. "Well I recommend you never do it on a real date either, because you'll end up screaming more than she does."

It might be his imagination, but Youngbae thinks Daesung looks just the slightest bit sad at that. They drive the rest of the way back to the dorms in silence, even Youngbae's doodling petering out.

After returning, the looming reality of Sunday night hits them both, and they part ways to prepare for tomorrow. Youngbae doesn't see Daesung when he goes to work out—doesn't see him at all, in fact, until he's about to turn out his bedside lamp and go to bed, when a timid knock sounds on his door.

"Come in," he says, and Daesung pokes his head inside.

"Um," Daesung says.

Youngbae waits a beat, trying futilely to read Daesung's troubled expression. "What is it?"

"I can't stop thinking about that dead girl when I turn off the light," Daesung says in a rush, fixing Youngbae with pitiful eyes. "Can we have a sleepover?"

Youngbae makes it maybe two seconds before bursting into peals of laughter—the kind where you can't see through the tears—and Daesung shushes him but takes it as an invitation, shuffling inside and closing the door behind him.

"You brought your pillow?" Youngbae says when he can speak again. "What were you going to do if I said no?"

"You can't say no. You owe me," Daesung says, making a face. He jumps into bed and Youngbae scoots over to make room, bizarrely pleased with the situation. It's been so long since he felt this warm and amused; he can't seem to stop snickering, even after they've turned the lights out and rolled over so they're lying back-to-back.

"Quiet," Daesung hisses. "Some of us have to get up early in the morning."

Youngbae elbows him in the ribcage and Daesung retaliates by kicking him in the leg, which results in a jostling fight that doesn't die down until almost half an hour later. Still, it's the easiest Youngbae has drifted off in as long as he can remember, his mind blotting out all the usual work anxiety with a haze of contentment. The last thing he remembers is the steady rise-fall of Daesung's breathing, the way it lends a background noise to the room that fits just right.

 

It's still dark out when Youngbae opens his eyes, wondering dimly if he's having an insomnia attack again, even after falling asleep so easily. But a glance at the clock tells him it's almost 5:30, only minutes before the alarm is set to go off, and then he takes in the weight of the bed, the warmth at his side, and remembers. He turns his head and Daesung is right there, mouth pressed into the crook of Youngbae's neck and shoulder, one arm slung across Youngbae's stomach. It burns hot on Youngbae's skin; every part of him that Daesung is touching feels hot, including and especially the breath that ghosts against his neck. He itches to move away but at the same time has the urgent sense he shouldn't.

The alarm starts to buzz before he can make a decision, and Youngbae quietly panics as Daesung scrunches up his face and groans, hand clenching over Youngbae's abs.

"Not yet," he murmurs, burrowing his face down deeper, pressing his mouth close enough to Youngbae's neck that it's almost a kiss; isn't that a kiss? He curls a leg around Youngbae's calf, forcing their bodies even closer, and right when Youngbae feels something hard against his hip, at the same time, they both freeze.

Daesung moves first, because he has to. Peeling himself away from Youngbae's side, he looks up, eyes wide and frightened. 

"Sorry," Daesung says, as quiet as Youngbae has ever heard him. 

Youngbae's tongue is thick and heavy and won't move. He just watches as Daesung wipes his mouth with the back of his hand and scoots away, eyes still locked on Youngbae like he's worried he's about to get punched.

"I'm gonna," Daesung says, jerking a thumb toward the door, and then he's gone, pillow completely forgotten in his rush to escape.

 

The week is grueling, which is one reason, maybe, Youngbae doesn't get around to returning Daesung's pillow. He's still not sure he understands what happened, but every morning when he wakes up with his face smashed into the foreign pillowcase he tries hard to figure it out. Daesung is polite and not unfriendly at work but distant and awkward, and every time Youngbae thinks back to the weekend his stomach gives a painful twinge. In retrospect, it was more fun than Youngbae has had in a long time, and he feels like he's lost that now, before he could even really start to appreciate it. 

By Saturday night, Youngbae has never been more relieved to get back to his own apartment. They're facing only light activities scattering the group schedule in the coming week, so everyone's free to live away from the dorms. He starts to unpack his bag and stares at Daesung's pillow, which ended up getting zipped in with his clothes despite Youngbae's better judgment. After turning it uncertainly in his hands for a while, he sets it down amongst his own pillows and heads to the kitchen to feed Boss, who's been whining for fifteen minutes solid.

Daesung calls before Youngbae has finished setting down the dog dish.

"Hello?" Youngbae says, glancing into his bedroom at the pillow guiltily, irrationally fearful that Daesung knows.

"Hi, it's Daesung, I," Daesung says, too fast, before he slows down and tries again. "I'm downstairs. Can you let me in?"

"Downstairs?" Youngbae trips over Boss's bowl and curses, kibble flying everywhere.

"Hyung?" Daesung says nervously.

"Sorry—here." Youngbae lurches to the intercom and buzzes him in, then, unsure of what to do, hangs up without saying goodbye. 

Youngbae has barely pulled open the door for Daesung before he's inside, babbling in a nearly incomprehensible stream of words. "Hyung, I'm so sorry the interview didn't go well, but I hate that you're upset—you shouldn't let it bother you. It doesn't matter if you haven't dated a lot of girls, you're great the way you are and when you do find the right girl it's going to be perfect. And I'm sorry I tried to teach you about dating—I didn't want to make you think you need to change anything about yourself, because the way you are now—" Daesung finally pauses to take a breath, hesitating. "Anyone would be lucky to have you," he concludes.

"Daesung," Youngbae says, dumbstruck. "What are you talking about?"

Boss, having finished cleaning up the kibble mess, chooses that precise moment to notice there's an intruder and starts barking. The distraction is a welcome one, though; for a second, Daesung looked like he was ready to cry.

"Can I have a glass of water?" Daesung asks, breathless, bending down to give Boss a distracted pat on the head.

"Yes," Youngbae says. He's relieved just to be able to understand something Daesung says and be proactive about it.

Once they've relocated to the kitchen, Youngbae takes down a bottle of soju as well, shaking it questioningly.

"Yes please," Daesung says. Even though neither of them are big drinkers, Youngbae thinks the occasion calls for it. He pours them each a glass.

Of course, Youngbae is learning all sorts of new things about Daesung lately; he throws his back in one go. "So you weren't upset about your interview?" he gasps, setting the glass down hard enough that Youngbae winces.

"I didn't even know it aired," Youngbae says, after a more moderate swig from his own glass. "I'm guessing by your reaction it's not very good, though."

"It's fine, it just—focused on the girlfriend stuff a lot," Daesung says. He pours himself another helping without asking and Youngbae only barely suppresses a laugh. There's nothing funny about Daesung upset, but now that he's here Youngbae feels strangely lighthearted.

"Then why were you so weird all week?" Daesung asks.

Youngbae chokes on his next swallow of soju, and it goes down the wrong pipe burning. "Me?" he rasps.

"You were all moody and silent and wouldn't make eye contact with anybody!" Daesung insists. He seems a little offended that Youngbae is so incredulous.

"Well you were the one who wouldn't stand within four feet of me even if we were in an elevator," Youngbae shoots back.

Daesung looks down, turning his glass in his hands. "That's different. I thought you were mad."

"Why would I be mad?" Youngbae feels like they're on the verge of something, but still he's teetering uncertainly on the edge of understanding.

"Because," Daesung says, face reddening even as his voice wilts. "I was trying to—and in the morning—I'm sure it bothered you." It's as much as he can get out. He takes another swallow of soju and looks anywhere but at Youngbae, who, for his part, is also feeling a little hot in the face.

"It didn't . . . bother me." 

They make eye contact at long, long last, and at the same time, they both smile.

"Okay," Daesung says with a shaky laugh. 

"Do you wanna—" Youngbae says, gesturing at the couch, and Daesung stammers "Yeah, sure," stuffing his hands in his pockets and leading the way into the living room. 

It looks like they're going to need all the help they can get stumbling through this exchange, whatever it is. Youngbae grabs both glasses and the bottle before following.

"For the record," Youngbae says, taking a seat next to Daesung and pouring fresh drinks, "I liked the dates. I had fun."

He doesn't think he's said anything monumental, but when Youngbae looks up Daesung is studying him intently, like he just spoke another language.

"You didn't mind?" Daesung asks, accepting his glass from Youngbae's extended hand.

The way Daesung says it, Youngbae can't help but get flustered. "Of course I didn't mind," he manages. "It was nice." His own words startle him when he adds, "I think the main reason I was weird this week was because I missed you."

And just like that, Youngbae, who can admittedly be a little slow sometimes, thinks maybe he gets it.

The words hang in the air between them for too long, but Youngbae can't bring himself to glance sideways and gauge Daesung's reaction. He has, however, almost worked up the courage to throw himself out the window, right when two things happen. 

First, Daesung touches Youngbae's shoulder and says, "Hyung. Who do you _want_ to date?"

Second, and only a second later, Boss emerges from Youngbae's bedroom, proudly growling as he drags Daesung's pillow across the floor.

"Shit," Youngbae says. 

He jumps off the couch and lunges for the pillow, but that's exactly what Boss was hoping for; he snarls excitedly and darts in the opposite direction. They engage in the most humiliating game of chase imaginable, over chairs and under tables, Youngbae continually being outsmarted by a dog the size of one of his biceps, until Boss leaps right into Daesung's lap and Daesung simply plucks the pillow from his mouth.

"This is mine," he says dumbly, as Youngbae comes to a stop just in front of him. 

"Yeah," Youngbae says. One glare and Boss slinks off of Daesung's lap, scurrying out of sight.

"You brought it here?" Daesung asks.

"Yeah," Youngbae says. He sits down heavily next to Daesung, wiping the hair out of his face. His mohawk has started to wilt.

Daesung puts the pillow down on his other side, turns, and looks Youngbae straight in the eye. "Do you want to date me?" His voice is steady when he says it, but Youngbae has seen this expression on Daesung's face before, always on the cusp of a high-stakes performance.

It's good to know they're both terrified.

"Yeah," Youngbae says. He closes his eyes and falls back against the cushions, covering his face with his hands, steeling himself.

He feels rather than sees Daesung fall back against the cushions next to him; feels rather than sees Daesung pressing in close, his face burrowing against Youngbae's neck, strangely familiar. A hand slides up Youngbae's neck to his jaw, batting Youngbae's arms away so they fall, one at his side, one across Daesung's shoulders.

"Okay," Daesung says, voice muffled by Youngbae's skin. 

"Okay what?" Youngbae is trying his hardest to follow the train of conversation, but he's considerably distracted by the way his stomach is trying to crawl out his throat.

"Okay, I'll date you," Daesung says. "On one condition."

Youngbae shivers. "What?"

"Kiss me."

Youngbae opens his eyes. He shifts slightly so he can better face Daesung, and Daesung guides him closer with the hand on his jaw, encouraging. This is the single most frightening moment of Youngbae's life, but even though the only sound he can hear is his own heart beating wildly in his ears, his hands move with a strange confidence to cradle the back of Daesung's head. 

At first he just brushes his lips over Daesung's, trying to get a feel for it. It's weird having his face this close to another person's, but Daesung's sigh is reassuring. Youngbae pulls back, tries again—presses harder this time, tilting so their mouths fit better together, and Daesung, eyes fluttering closed, sucks on Youngbae's bottom lip.

That sends a jolt through Youngbae's entire body, mouth to toes. Without thinking, he pushes Daesung down so he's flat on his back on the cushions. As an immediate reward, Daesung hooks one leg around Youngbae's ass and exhales into his mouth.

"C'mere," Daesung urges, dragging his hand up the back of Youngbae's neck and skull, in a way that makes the hair there prickle straight up on end.

Youngbae moans, which Daesung takes as an opportunity to catch his mouth while it's open. It works better than Youngbae would have expected, kissing like that: even though it's louder and messier he starts to like it, especially the way it keeps surprising him. The first time their tongues meet it's weird but not at all bad, and the first time Daesung nips at his top lip he jerks his hips hard, gasping.

Daesung's fingers clench around his biceps. He looks a little winded. "Do that again." 

He doesn't need to be told twice. Youngbae rolls his hips, Daesung presses more insistently with his leg, and they both shudder with the force of it. Another experimental shift—Youngbae grabs Daesung's thigh, hitching it higher up, rolls again—and something inside him snaps.

"Oh, God." Youngbae crushes Daesung's mouth under his, forgetting to be self-conscious that it's too much, too messy, and he has no idea what he's doing. Daesung slips his hands under Youngbae's shirt and digs nails into Youngbae's back and they grind together, fast and hard, until they're panting into each other's mouths. Youngbae has sweats on but Daesung's still wearing jeans, and it almost hurts, except for the fact that it feels so good.

"Hold on," Daesung hisses, about the two last words in the world Youngbae wants to hear right now. He grunts but doesn't actually stop what he's doing, until Daesung works a hand between them and under the waistband of Youngbae's underwear and he goes shock-still.

"Daesung," Youngbae says, but it's the last word he can get out for a while. Daesung doesn't wait for permission. He finds Youngbae's cock and starts to work it, confident, sucking at the side of Youngbae's neck and the hollow of his throat, occasionally gasping almost as loud as Youngbae himself. 

Youngbae's never felt anything half this good in his life. He's helpless to do anything but breathe—can hardly even manage that—head tilting back as Daesung jerks him faster, pulls up his shirt, mouths at his chest. With a final swipe of Daesung's thumb across the head Youngbae comes, too overwhelmed to make a sound, trembling with the effort to stay propped up and not collapse right there.

"It's okay," Daesung says, reading Youngbae's mind, so Youngbae does collapse, burying his face in Daesung's chest and breathing deep as Daesung strokes his hair. The air around them smells like sweat and something sharper, and all Youngbae can think is, he wants to make Daesung feel just as good.

When he drags a hand down to Daesung's crotch and grabs, unself-conscious, Daesung jerks in initial surprise. Even through his jeans Daesung is so hard and hot, and Youngbae presses the heel of his palm in and rubs, over and over, strangely aroused even by his part in this. 

Daesung isn't quiet at all. He writhes under Youngbae's hand, legs falling apart, and moans. Youngbae gives an experimental squeeze and Daesung moans louder, scrabbling at his shoulders. Then, in a burst of aggression that surprises him at least as much as it does Daesung, Youngbae grabs the hem of Daesung's shirt, jerks it high up his chest, and uses all his strength to press him down to the cushions, biting at his newly exposed stomach.

Youngbae doesn't need to hear Daesung's sharp cry to know he comes in his pants.

They fall together again after Youngbae crawls back up, trading places so Youngbae is underneath, making out until his lips hurt and his brain is cloudy. Daesung's hands trace patterns across Youngbae's chest, and it feels so nice he forgets to care about the mess trapped between them, even once they give up on kissing and just lie there, eyes closed, waiting for their breathing to return to normal.

"I felt like I was tricking you," Daesung says after Youngbae doesn't know how long; his voice sounds strange and distant in the stillness of the room.

"Hmm?" Youngbae opens his eyes reluctantly, but Daesung's are still closed.

"With the dates," Daesung clarifies. "I wanted to help you, but not as much as I wanted to have you to myself."

Maybe he should be retroactively affronted, but Youngbae can't see why. "But you did help me," he says, a little stupidly.

Daesung hums his smile, and the vibration of it feels good over Youngbae's heart.

 

They don't leave Youngbae's apartment the entire next day—not even to work out—a fact which makes Youngbae flush with shame and a few other emotions later, although he'd do it all again, unfailingly, if given the choice. Whenever they have to show up for activities the next week, Youngbae is constantly nervous and embarrassed, like everyone can see exactly what they've been doing with one look at his face. Of course, he's still not entirely convinced this is real life anyway; the first time Daesung went down on him, late Sunday night while they were taking a shower, was so good Youngbae has started to wonder if he didn't go into a coma and has been dreaming everything since.

"You're awfully smiley today," Jiyong says on Wednesday, startling Youngbae's attention away from his phone. He's been texting nonstop with Daesung while they're in separate studios, and fewer than half the messages are entirely appropriate. Trying not to look too guilty, he slips his phone into his pocket.

"I guess," Youngbae says, shrugging in a way he hopes is nonchalant. When he dares look up again, Jiyong is staring, open-mouthed.

"Oh my God," he says. "You got a girlfriend and you didn't tell us!"

Youngbae jerks to his feet and backs away from Jiyong on instinct. "No," he says, completely unconvincing. "No, I didn't—"

But Jiyong is like a cat on the prowl, circling Youngbae dangerously. "Come on, Youngbae. You think you can hide anything from me?"

Seunghyun looks up from his seat on the green room couch, curiosity piqued. "You have been grinning and texting a ton this week," he says suspiciously.

"So?" Youngbae says, momentarily distracted. Jiyong takes the opportunity and pounces, grabbing the phone right out of his pocket.

"Jiyong, don't—" Youngbae begs, but too late. Jiyong has perched himself on top of an easy chair, fending Youngbae off with an extended leg as he scrolls through his text history. Youngbae watches as realization slowly dawns and the color drains from Jiyong's face.

"Well?" Seunghyun says. "Who is it?"

Jiyong tosses Youngbae's phone back to him but doesn't meet his eyes, carefully adjusting the cuffs of his sleeves. "No one," he says. "My mistake."

Youngbae is pretty sure this is it—the end of his longest friendship, the end of his career, hopefully not the end of him and Daesung but who knows—but he's a little thrown off when Jiyong stands and pats him, just once, on the back.

"I'll be right back," he says, disappearing out the green room door. 

Now Seunghyun looks more intrigued and confused than ever, shifting upright. "What the—did you steal Jiyong's girl or something, Youngbae?"

"Jesus," Youngbae moans, and he sinks down into a chair and has to spend the rest of the shoot trying not to throw up all over his designer shoes.

 

Daesung hasn't been answering texts since Youngbae returned home, so when his intercom finally buzzes he says a silent prayer of thanks and hurries to it, pressing the button to open the door eagerly.

"What happened?" Youngbae says once Daesung is in his entryway, pale and wide-eyed. "Did Jiyong talk to you? Did he—"

Daesung shakes his head wildly, but too late—a second later, Jiyong enters just behind him.

"What's up," Jiyong says, casual. 

Youngbae and Daesung are both still, eyeing Jiyong warily, but for his part, Jiyong acts like nothing is out of the ordinary at all. He slips off his shoes, muttering something about a scuff on one toe, and straightens up with a leisurely stretch, flashing Youngbae a smile.

"Aren't you going to offer me a drink?"

There aren't words to express how confused Youngbae is right now. He nods once, jerkily, and makes his way to the kitchen, groping for glasses like a blind man. 

Jiyong moves to the living room to stretch out on the couch, calling over his shoulder, "Something strong, if you have it. It's been a long day."

"I'm sorry," Daesung mutters, slipping in beside Youngbae to help. He holds the glasses steady as Youngbae opens a new bottle of wine and pours. "He made me bring him here—he even took my—"

"Oi, Daesung!" 

Daesung whirls around just in time to catch the phone Jiyong tosses at him. 

"Sorry about that," Jiyong says, not sounding sorry at all.

Catching Youngbae's gaze, Daesung lifts an eyebrow, as if to say, _See?_

Youngbae just sighs and leads the way to join Jiyong in the living room. He's not sure what's about to happen, but he knows his best friend, and there's no getting around this confrontation. It's going to happen, now, and God help them all if Jiyong is feeling ruthless.

"Thanks," Jiyong says when Youngbae holds out a glass of wine. He closes his eyes as he takes a sip, breathing slow and deep, and when he opens them again, he's a different person. "Sit," he orders.

Out the corner of his eye, Youngbae notices Boss stop in his tracks on the kitchen tile and immediately drop to the floor. Youngbae follows his good example on the couch.

"You too," Jiyong says, harsher still, pointing at Daesung. Daesung takes a seat on the other side of Jiyong and stares at the floor like his life is flashing before his eyes.

"I only have one question for you," Jiyong says, directed at Youngbae, who quickly takes a swallow of wine. "Are you happy?"

Youngbae thinks maybe he's misheard. "Sorry?"

"Are. You. Happy," Jiyong repeats.

It feels like there's a lot weighing on his response, but at least it's not a hard question to answer. "Yes," Youngbae says, embarrassed but firm.

The smile Jiyong gives him is a rare one, unguarded and fond. "Good," he says. He pats Youngbae's knee a few times before turning on Daesung. "As for you," he says. "Do you have any idea what you're getting yourself into?"

Maybe Daesung had been expecting something a little less frightening, after Youngbae's question; he looks startled. Youngbae can only cringe in support. "I—"

"Mark my words, Kang Daesung," Jiyong interrupts, jabbing his finger right into Daesung's chest. "If you mess this up, I will end you."

To his credit, Daesung doesn't cry, just nods a million times in earnest understanding.

Jiyong waits an eternity to let his words sink in, never letting his eye contact with Daesung falter for a second. Then, as quickly as it came, the mood passes, and Jiyong grabs Daesung around the neck, pulls him in, and administers a vicious noogie.

"Agh!" Daesung sloshes his wine on the couch, but Youngbae is too relieved to care.

"You two are such idiots," Jiyong says with a laugh, standing up and finishing off his wine so quickly it can't have been very pleasant. "I can't believe you thought you could hide something like this from me."

"Well, it has only been like, four days," Daesung mutters from the couch, trying to repair the damage to his hair.

Youngbae stands up to take Jiyong's now-empty glass and follows him to the entryway, where he starts to put his shoes back on. "Do you want to stay and eat?" Youngbae asks.

"No, I'm good. I have a super early day tomorrow." With a parting pat on Boss's head, Jiyong stands up, smooths out his jacket, and meets Youngbae's eyes. "Come here," he says, wrapping arms around Youngbae's shoulders in a hug. 

Between his one half-full and one empty wine glass, Youngbae's hands are full, but he does his best to return the embrace, smiling against Jiyong's shoulder.

"I'm glad to see you happy," Jiyong says, so soft only Youngbae can hear it.

"Thank you," Youngbae says. 

"See you tomorrow, Daesung!" Jiyong offers Daesung a cheery wave and then he's gone, and from the sound of it, Daesung slides off the couch and collapses with a thump to the floor.

"Oh my God," Daesung moans. "You have the scariest best friend in the entire world."

"I know," Youngbae says, but even when he turns around and confirms that yes, Daesung is indeed a puddle on the carpet, his face is splitting with his grin. 

" _You_ can smile," Daesung snaps. "You didn't have your life threatened. You should've heard the things he said to me in the car."

But Youngbae can only laugh as he makes his way over to the couch, slumping down in weary relief and lifting an arm to make room as Daesung crawls up to meet him. "It could've been a lot worse," he says.

"Whatever." Daesung snuggles in close despite his pout. "Let's watch a scary movie. I need something terrifying enough to scrub the image of Jiyong's face out of my brain."

"Is that date number three, technically?" Youngbae asks.

That finally earns a grin from Daesung, followed by a kiss, slow and deliberate like they're getting good at.

"I think so," Daesung says when they break apart. The look he gives Youngbae makes his stomach tangle up in the nicest way possible. "And you know what happens on the third date."

Later, when Youngbae's pants are around his ankles and _Ju On_ is being ignored in the background, Youngbae is glad he didn't admit he always thought number three meant holding hands.


End file.
